Live 4 Tomorrow
by NixelM
Summary: Nita is a quick-witted 19-year-old raised by her military father. She holds her own in a bunker in the mid-western forest. She survives off of the surrounding land and groups of survivors willing to trade. Unfortunately, there hasn't been much traffic down her lonely road and she's strapped for supplies. Can she get what she needs alone in a hostile, post-apocalyptic world?
1. Left Alone

The sun beat down on the abandoned road. Crows pecked lazily at the rotting remains of the dead. They hopped on and around the rusting cars and cawed at each other. Suddenly, the birds flew about in a frenzy of black feathers as one of the bodies lunged sloppily at them. The thing hit the ground with a wet thud and struggled to stand back up. The commotion was infectious, and soon many of the bodies were groaning and shuffling about. After dodging the shambling corpses, the murder of crows took shelter in the outlying trees of the forest by the sun-baked road. There, they continued their relentless cawing and hopping about, annoyed at the sudden lack of still food.

Hidden in a well crafted nest camouflaged into the higher boughs of an old oak tree, Nita tried to contain her annoyance at her new companions. They pecked and pulled at her black hair and cawed in her ears. Slowly, so as not to disturb the finicky birds, she slipped down to the lower branches. Her slender, toned body made it easy to move about. Pulling away a chunk of the tree, she slipped into a hole. She pulled a cover down behind her and latched it into place. The tree itself was a fake and hollowed out to create an entrance into an underground bunker. Within the base of the tree, she pulled open a heavy door and dropped through, catching the ladder just below. She locked the door and climbed down the ladder. Moving by touch down a long hallway with many more doors, she made her way to the main room. Beside the final door was a candle. Once lit, it illuminated yet another door. She stepped through, stopping only to smell the air within, and found a machine the size of a large cooler. It took a few pulls to get the generator going. The lights flickered to life. The room was filled with gasoline tanks. Nervously, she blew out the candle. Nita hated bringing a candle in here, but she didn't want to waste any of her precious batteries on a flashlight. "This would be fine if I could just find a crank powered lantern." she mumbled to herself.

The main room, now dimly lit by weak light-bulbs, was more open and scarcely furnished. There was an old, threadbare couch in the center. Next to it, on a worn wooden table, was a cracked lamp. Books littered the coffee table in front of the couch. All of them were extras that wouldn't fit on the bookshelf against the wall. Nita did a quick sweep of the rooms; bathroom, showers, barracks, bedrooms, kitchen, storeroom; and relaxed. Her home was as empty as ever. She glanced at the wind up watch on her slender wrist. 18:00. The sun would be setting soon. She sighed. Nobody had passed down the road in almost a week. The cars were, by now, emptied of any useful supplies and there were no towns nearby. No passersby meant no supply trade. Her pantry was nearly empty. She had already begun digging into her backup mre supply, which was not doing her stomach any favors.

After a forced meal, Nita wandered about the bunker, checking and rechecking the doors and locks. She made sure that all entrances were secured and clear of obstacles. Once confirmed, she went about checking inventory. There hadn't been much rain lately, but her water tank was nearly half full. The water purifier was working fine, too. In the pantry, she noted two unopened boxes of mres and one that was half empty. In the stock room was a wall lined with miscellaneous weapons, though most of the guns had no ammo, and the adjacent wall was lined with shelves for ammo. There was no shortage of .308 and .22, though she could always do with more. Her stock of .45 and 9mm were running terribly low and she was nearly out of .40, though many of the other handgun calibers were fairly well stocked. Sighing in frustration, she chose a .380 Ruger LCP from the wall and strapped it into a thigh holster, hanging her Beretta in its place. She filled the spare mags and grabbed a few more boxes of .380. She then collected one of the many unused medpacks, a few adrenaline shots and some pain pills before heading back to her room.

Aside from the barracks, the bunker had two bedrooms. Her father had designed the thing for the two of them to ride out the apocalypse. He had been rather obsessed with it since her mother had died. She didn't mind. Eventually, it did come. At least they were prepared. She peeked into her father's room on the way to her own. Nothing had changed. His military awards, flags, and the like were pinned to the walls. Everything was neat and tidy. His uniform was laid neatly on the bed. Nita looked away and shut the door quietly. She couldn't stand seeing the bloody stain on the sleeve.

In her room, she began packing various things, including what she had grabbed from the storeroom, into a rucksack. She pulled a crate from her closet. Contained within was an assortment of her favorite foods from the mres and different other meals. She packed some of those as well. Tucking a Twinky into her pocket, she grabbed a map and headed to the living room. Munching on the sweet snack, she pored over the map. There was a town to the south, but she doubted very seriously that it would have anything useful. Many of the groups that had come through her way had come from there. On the other side of the large forest was a larger town, nearly a city, by her guess. Nita did not like the idea of going to such a large place. They tended to be quite populated. Such a thing could prove deadly in this situation. Unfortunately for her, this seemed to be the best option for supplies. She wiped her mouth and folded the map.

A quick shower later, she went to bed. The generator was off again and the bunker was silent. Not even the crows could be heard through the thick walls. Nita fell into a fitful sleep plagued with dreams of her past trips. The night passed quickly, though, and she was up and getting ready for her trip at 06:00. She tightened the belt around her slender hips, making sure all of her smaller tools were easily accessible. She strapped the Ruger to her thigh. Her camouflage pants were tucked into her tightly laced boots. Over her black, long-sleeved under armor shirt, she strapped on some light-weight armor for her torso and arms. The knee pads were a bit worn, but she strapped them on anyway. To the velcro on her chest armor, she secured a mini medpack, an adrenaline shot, rifle magazines, and more small tools. Despite her armor, she was still lightweight and mobile. She brushed her long, black hair into a bun. She slipped a black balaclava and goggles over her head and checked her reflection. Her hazel eyes stared back at her. Lowering her goggles and securing her home, Nita set out on her mission.

The first sound Nita heard upon exiting was the high pitched whine of a crying woman. Not a good start to her day.


	2. Wood Trek

Nita crept around the trees. It was hard to pinpoint the direction of the familiar sound. As she gingerly stepped around one of the forest's many maple trees, she thought she heard the sound become louder. Her blood froze in her veins as the crying changed into annoyed growling. Turning around, she saw the thing staring at her. It had stopped its stumbling about and aimed its red eyes at Nita. She found witches relatively easy to deal with, until she got too close, that is. Dropping to a half-crouch, she slowly stepped back away. The witch watched closely as she did so. It took a few steps toward her, its growling replaced with curious silence. Nita grabbed her pistol nervously. To her relief, the witch did not follow further and instead went back to its wailing.

This particular witch wasn't unfamiliar to her, but she really didn't want to take it on. As long as she didn't approach it, it wouldn't bother her. Nita could tell it apart from the others by the necklace she had managed to rope around its skinny neck. Taking on a witch alone was a foolish idea and the thing had served her well as a sort of guard dog, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Nita steadied herself. The crying was now fading into the distance as she walked. There weren't many zombies in the woods these days. The few she encountered, she took care of quietly with a boot knife strapped to her leg. It seemed as if the animals were coming back, though. As she cleared a ring of red leafed maple trees, a deer, surprised by the sudden intruder, bounded away. All things considered, it was a peaceful day. The scent of death was less pungent than the last time she had gone through this part of the forest. Perhaps there were scavengers to thank for that.

As the sun reached its peak in the sky, Nita pulled herself up into the thick branches of a tree. The leaves provided cover from the more mutated infected and she wouldn't have to deal with those that couldn't climb. She pulled a water bottle and a package from her bag. It was wrapped in thick gray plastic and labelled as "wheat bread". It tasted like soggy cardboard, but she was used to it. Below, a zombie walked aimlessly by. It had a rusted machete lodged in its chest. Nita shook her head. Someone had died for that. The thing stumbled about, not realizing she was there. It bumped into a tree and fell over. Nita tried not to laugh as it growled and fumbled about, trying to get back up. Shoving the water back into her bag, she dropped down and ended the thing.

Puffy white clouds had filled the sky, but they were slowly turning grey. Nita missed the weather broadcasts now. She hated traveling in the rain. Pushing forward, she hoped she could find decent shelter if it did rain. It was mid afternoon when the forest finally gave way to a field. beyond it was the city. The buildings were tall and plenty. She hadn't been here since she was a child, perhaps 10. It wasn't as big then. She wanted to turn back, but knew she couldn't afford to.

The grass in the field had grown long and was difficult to see through, so Nita climbed a tree to get a better view. What she saw was disheartening. There hadn't been so many in the forest, but the terrain seemed packed in comparison. There were about seven acres between her and the city and at least 40 hostiles. She closed her eyes and listened closely. There were no sounds of a special infected nearby. That was a small relief, at least. She scanned the environment again. There was a small shack almost halfway between the treeline and the city's edge. She would use that as a midpoint to funnel the undead. This would not be easy, but she would have to try. With all of her items double checked and secured tightly against her body, Nita made for the shack.

At the treeline, Nita stuck her boot knife into one of the zombie's heads and draped the body over her. Staying low to the ground, she made her way toward the shack. She managed one acre before coming too close to one of the others. It was not convinced by her camouflage and went for her hungrily. There weren't many nearby, but they came at her, too. Tossing the body aside, she grabbed a bowie knife strapped to small of her back from its sheath and took out two of them easily. There was a pressure on her upper arm as one of the others attempted to bite her. The armor did its job and Nita stuck the knife through the creature's head. She then tripped another, causing yet another to fall over it. The knife made short work of them and she was on her way again, carrying a corpse with her.

The cover served her well this time and she was nearly to the shack before being discovered again. Two of the zombies had begun following her curiously. Their wet grunts sounded hungry. More and more of the undead were beginning to look her way. Much to Nita's dismay, there seemed to be more surrounding the run down building than had appeared before. She hoped they hadn't gotten inside. She skirted around the edge of the house until she heard a noise that shook her to her core. There was a deep grunt. It sounded hollow and angry. The sudden noise had caused Nita to freeze and the corpse slipped from her grip, hitting the ground with a wet thud.

The zombies surrounding her lunged, hungry for fresh meat. Unable to react in time with her knife, Nita pulled out her Ruger and took out three of the figures approaching her. They dropped to the ground and she darted through the opening left by them. The noise drew more attention and more of the things came at her. She didn't care about the supplies anymore, she just wanted to get back to the treeline. Behind her, there was a roar and the crash of a wooden wall being reduced to splinters


	3. Rough Welcome

Nita holstered the pistol and grabbed the rifle from her back. It was a basic M16, but it was reliable. The hulking beast thundered toward her, tossing smaller zombies out of the way. She fired at it as she ran and it responded by tearing up a chunk of the earth and throwing it at her. The car sized clod just missed her as she ducked into a roll and landed in front of her. In her forward motion, she nearly slammed into it. The tank came up too fast for her to run and she instead braced herself for a hit. Just as it raised its massive arm, she saw an opening.

The hunk of dirt and rock the tank had thrown at her served as a springboard to launch herself under the tank's arm. She rolled again and came up behind the large beast. Not wasting a second, she pushed forward, knocking zombies away as she did. The gunfire hurt her ears, but the adrenaline was more than enough to spur her forward. The tank roared angrily as the slight girl sprinted away. It tore up another car sized hunk of earth and threw it. This time, it grazed Nita's right side and she went tumbling for nearly a yard. For a moment, her vision was a confusing tangle of rotted limbs and grass. The trembling earth brought her back quickly and she got to her feet.

Nita didn't get time to run as the tank came up on her. All she saw was a huge, decayed limb and she was suddenly in the air. Her reflexes had kicked in enough to prepare her for the blow well enough to protect her bones from breaking. This time, she landed several yards away, but she was ready. The fight had taken her well past the hut and she wasted no time choosing a direction. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she was running at full speed towards the tall buildings of the city. The tank roared behind her but she wouldn't look back. Hunks of earth landed near her every once in a while, but, by luck or skill, she managed to escape the hits.

There was a growing pain in Nita's abdomen as she ran. She ignored it. The tank's roaring was growing slowly distant as she ran. High school track had served her well, she thought with no small measure of satisfaction. Her father had wanted her to avoid clubs. Finally, the city approached. There was a gaping hole in a tall fence. Nita took that as a sign that the tank had been here a while. She had no time to check her surroundings once she was through and ducked immediately into a building. The door gave way easily behind her weight and she stumbled into a dark hallway. It cost her a few seconds and the tank burst in behind her, it's dead eyes fixed angrily on her.

There was a doorway halfway down the hall and Nita dashed through it. It led to a tiled kitchen area. The tables were tossed about and there were dead bodies scattered everywhere. A small group of zombies took notice of her and charged. She dropped to the linoleum and slid between the stupid things. The tank then thundered in, swatting them aside. Nita used the momentary distraction to disappear into the dead bodies. She held her breath against the scent of death and laid as deadly still as she could. The tank crashed into the main part of the room and tore around angrily. A table landed on top of her and she suppressed a grunt of pain.

The acrid scent of decomposing flesh was choking Nita as she waited. She could hear the tank pacing the room for what felt like hours before it finally left. For several more minutes, she waited. All she could hear now were the sounds of the dead as they grunted and shuffled around the damned city. Coughing, she pushed the round table off of her and checked herself over.

To Nita's surprise, most of her equipment had made it. The armor that protected her upper arm had been nearly torn off and her arm was bruised. one of her knives had disappeared at some point. It was a boot knife she had strapped to the lower part of her right arm. Dirt, grass, and rotting flesh covered her body. She bent down to pick up her M16 only to find it horribly bent. Several of the components were broken and the barrel was beyond help. Sighing, she pulled out the magazine and the chambered round and put them in her bag. Tossing the hunk of junk on the ground, she then set out to find a place to rest. Her whole body hurt now and the blow from the tank was taking its toll.

Nita limped to a broken window and hopped out. The streets were filled with the walking corpses and she had no intention of taking them on. The sun was beginning to set already and she needed a place to rest. Across the street, she spotted one of the red doors set up for safe rooms in larger areas. It seemed intact and she made her way for it. There were only a few zombies inside and she made quick work of them with her Ruger. The sound drew the other zombies in the road, but she had already secured the heavy door by the time they got there.


	4. Survivors

Zombies beat on the metal door behind Nita as she looked over the room again, confirming that none of the other bodies were animated. The only light came from the dying sun outside and an old lantern. She wondered if someone had been here recently. There was a headless body leaning against one of the walls. There were large, dark bloodstains covering the already grimy flannel shirt and an old shotgun sitting in its lap. Behind it, on the wall, was a large blood spatter covering the different survivor messages. She could tell all too well the events leading up to this poor man's end. He was probably hungry. Endlessly hungry. Nothing he ate would satisfy him and water made him feel sick. Even in his last moments, memories of his loved ones only increased his hunger. It was nightmarish and cruel.

Nita turned away, wiping an indignant tear from her eye. Rolled up and shoved together onto a shelf was an assortment of tattered blankets. She grabbed one and tossed it onto the body, stirring up a small cloud of flies. They didn't even bother her. Flies were common these days and she'd had such a terrible day that she couldn't even bring herself to swat at them.

With the zombies outside losing interest, Nita set about dealing with her wounds. Once her armor was off, she examined her abdomen. there was a large bruise covering part of her right side. With no mirror to check, Nita assumed it went all the way to her back. She took several deep breaths. There was no particular pain that stood out to her. Now that the adrenaline had died down, her whole body felt sore, though. Gingerly touching each rib, she made sure that they weren't broken. All things considered, she felt lucky. Not even her father ever dared face a tank.

Once she had disinfected and bandaged all of her scrapes, Nita decided to search the room. There wasn't much that she could use. Trash littered the floor and Nita swore she heard the squeaking of mice over the groaning of the dead outside. She kicked some of the trash away to clear a space for her sleeping bag. A heavy cylinder bounced away as she did so. She picked it up and examined it. There was a fuse at one end of it and different devices attached to it. It had been some time since she had seen a pipe bomb. Hopeful, she searched the room. There were no more pipe bombs, but she did find a bottle of pills. Sighing, she gave up and set up her sleeping bag.

Once she had disinfected and bandaged all of her scrapes, Nita decided that it was time to rest. The dead outside the door had wandered off. They weren't terribly bright. By the time she laid out her sleeping bag and had a supper of pound cake and water, the sun had long since set. she laid there and listened. In the distant parts of the city, through the ever present moaning, she could hear other things. A smoker coughed violently. A witch cried, sounding pathetic. She thought she even heard the screech of a spitter. The city was certainly dangerous.

Nita was jerked awake by the sudden sound of gunfire. The street was alive with movement. She rushed to the door and peered out through the barred window. Through the mass of moving corpses, she could make out a small group of survivors making their way slowly down the road, taking cover whenever they could. She guessed that there were perhaps three people. A woman screamed and there was more gunfire. Unable to sit idly by, Nita Pulled on her armored vest and her balaclava and pulled the door open. She began taking out some of the zombies on the outside of the group with her Ruger.

The survivors took note of the new gunfire and began cutting through the crowd towards Nita. She cleared a few more and reloaded her pistol. Above them was the wet cough of a smoker. The thing poked it's grotesquely deformed head over the edge of a drugstore roof. She put two rounds into it's head before it could attack. There was a puff of smoke and the thing ran off, still coughing. The survivors, two men and a small woman, had separated from the zombies and were nearly to the room.

One of the men, a short, heavily muscled man, made it to the door and was immediately in. The second man stopped just short of the door and made sure the woman, a slight blonde woman with wide eyes, was in front of him. Seeing the black clothed figure in front of her, the woman stopped. There was another cough and Nita pushed the girl into the room without a second thought. She tripped into the room with a small squeak and her companion went to follow. He was taller than the first man and more leanly muscled. He motioned for her to enter first.

As she turned, something wrapped itself around her neck and chest. There was a brief feeling of panic as she was jerked backwards and dragged across the street. The man reached out for her a second too late. She heard him shout into the room. "Derek! Give me a gun!" then she heard the door slam. She stopped resisting and began fumbling at her vest for a knife. The slimy tongue was wrapped around her shoulder, making it difficult to reach the knife on her back. Suddenly, her feet were no longer on the ground and the tongue was becoming tighter. Below her, the zombies had caught up and were reaching for her.

Nita kicked at the zombies to keep them away and continued to search for her knife. Her gun fell from her grip, but she paid it no mind. She couldn't even look down anymore. The disgustingly thick tongue was tightening around her throat and she began struggling for breathe. As her vision began to fade, her fingertips finally closed around a boot knife strapped to her chest. It cut part of the tongue as she pulled it from its sheath and the smoker hacked angrily and tightened its slimy grip. Nita summoned all of her strength and stabbed the knife into the length of tongue over her head.

The smoker screamed and retracted its tongue, taking the knife with it. Nita fell, limp and dazed toward the crowd beneath her.


	5. Dangerous People

Strong arms caught Nita, breaking her fall gently. Her vision came in blurred moments and everything seemed to have slowed down. The taller man hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and turned. There was a pile of downed corpses on the ground around his feet. They moved toward a red blur, the safe room door. There was a voice saying something. It sounded nice, but was muffled by the rush of blood through her ears "Just relax. We're almost there." it said. She realized she was breathing heavily. Glancing down, she saw a black object in his left hand. Her Ruger.

They got to the door and the man carrying her shouted to someone inside. "Derek, open the door!" he sounded clearer now. Inside, a voice responded "Fuck off!" Nita managed to turn her head enough to make out the face of the shorter man glaring through the bars of the saferoom door. "We don't know her and it's your fault we're in this hellhole, so-" He cut off abruptly. She glanced up again to see her Ruger pointed at his face. "Let us in, Derek! I don't have time to argue." He was right. Her head was clearing and she could hear the fast approach of more zombies and the disgusting coughing of the smoker.

The heavy bar on the door moved and Nita was jerked around slightly as the taller man kicked it in, knocking the man named Derek over with a satisfying thud. He then slammed the door behind them and dropped the bar back into place, taking time to spit at the infected on the other side. Gently, he laid her down by the door and turned towards Derek. She could hear some scuffle, but was quickly approached by the young girl, who probed gently at her with polite, yet worried questions.

"Are you okay? Did anything bite you? Are you hurting?" The sweet young girl barely gave time for an answer, though Nita said nothing anyway. Her whole body was heavy and her chest hurt. She wanted desperately to tear off her balaclava and armor if only to breathe better, but the strangers surrounding her made her nervous. The taller one still had her pistol, she knew. For the time being, as the two guys seemed to be preoccupied with their own fight, she focused on the young girl. She was small with short cut, silvery blonde hair and large, luminous blue eyes. Tears streaked her pale, lightly freckled cheeks and her eyes looked haunted. Nita guessed the girl was a few years younger than herself. Perhaps 15 or 16.

"My name is Carol." the girl was saying. She was waving her hand in front of Nita's face. "Can you hear me?" Nita focused on the girl. She was very still and said nothing. The girl, Carol, reached out towards her. "You're still panting. It would be easier to breathe without-" she made a sound like a frightened puppy as Nita grabbed her delicate wrist with a strong hand. She released as the girl pulled away, a look of fear in her deep eyes. Nita hadn't meant to scare her, but she refused to show her face to strangers. She could see how she looked in those shining eyes. A black clad stranger covered in blood and knives. She was frightening.

The two arguing guys turned towards them to see the reason for the noise. Nita stood up, steadying herself against the wall. The taller man was on her immediately. He stood between her and Carol. "You shouldn't stand yet. We need to make sure you aren't hurt." His voice was gentle and calming, like silk against her ears. She glanced at his hand to see that the gun was still there. Noticing the quick flash of her eyes, he bent and set the gun on the ground. As he stood, he held his hands up in a gesture to show he meant her no harm. He seemed to her like a lithe cat defending a cub. He had the same silvery blonde hair as Carol, but his eyes were deep blue, the color of the midnight sky on a full moon. There was a silver halo surrounding his pupil like a lunar eclipse. He seemed closer to her age than the girl behind him.

Nita sidestepped warily. From the corner of her eye, she could see her rucksack leaning against the wall beside her sleeping bag. The taller guy didn't follow Nita as she moved, but kept himself facing her. Carol watched anxiously, shaking lightly. Nita could see the shorter boy sitting on the floor. He watched, too, but with little interest. She noted that he kept glancing at her pack. "We don't mean any harm." the taller guy was saying. The girl clung to him as he moved forward towards Nita. Her reflection in his eyes was a different picture than in Carol's. She seemed so small and scared. It was strange and irritating to see herself in such a way.

The blonde guy seemed to be examining her with inquisitive eyes. "You're limping. Let us help." he said. It nearly sounded like a plea. Nita shook her head. She had dealt with many people before in this apocalypse and getting too near to them almost always ended in nothing good. His movements were gentle, though and his expression concerned. She had begun to relax when she noted movement behind him. Derek, the shorter guy, had made a dash for her pack. In an explosion of movement that hurt her already tired muscles, she dashed for it. They both got there at the same time, each grabbing a different strap. Derek glared at her, his slime green eyes like a snake's beneath messy, mud-colored hair.

The others had been surprised by the sudden activity. "Let it go, Derek." the blonde guy demanded. Derek shot him a glare and responded, for the second time that day, "Fuck off!" He glared at Nita and spat "How do we know this is even hers?" Her hand moved slowly toward the back of her vest as she analyzed the man facing her. He was roughly her height and quite heavily muscled. His t-shirt was torn and covered in blood on his right shoulder. The blood was pouring from a bite.


	6. Too Late

Nita released the bag and dropped into a fighting stance, her bowie knife now in her hand. Carol gave a frightened squeak and the tall blonde guy cursed under his breath. Derek jerked the bag towards him, but didn't open it, taking note of Nita's new stance. He looked nervous and stepped back. She didn't move. She could hear the gentle voice of the blonde guy, no doubt trying to pacify the crazy armed girl, but she paid him no mind. Derek stood still, glancing every now and then to the others. Nobody moved. She examined Derek more closely.

There was sweat coating Derek's entire body and he was panting lightly. Enough time had passed that everyone should have been able to catch their breath. Even Nita was breathing easily. She could see that his face was a bit red as if he had a fever. 'All of this can be rationalized.' she thought to herself. 'He doesn't have to be infected.' Then she saw it. She knew the signs by now. There were dark veins leading up his neck from his injured shoulder. As she watched, she could see it progressing, moving quickly towards his brain. There was a sick feeling in her stomach.

The taller guy was suddenly between them. He held his hand out towards Nita. "Just calm down." he said. Nobody relaxed. Derek continued to glare and Nita, who just kept focused on her target. "Get out of the way, Scott." Derek growled. The taller guy, Scott, yanked the bag from Derek, who finally looked away to glare at him. Nita dove for the gun. Carol screamed again. The zombies at the door continued to groan and reach inside. The smoker, still skulking around the rooftops outside, coughed. Both of the boys stared, stunned, at the strange girl as she pointed her gun at Derek.

Carol was now crying on the floor. It was quiet, frightened sobs. She looked to Nita like a tiny witch for a brief moment. She didn't like the situation, but it wasn't her business, either. If they wanted to keep this timebomb with them, it was none of her concern. Slipping her knife back into its sheath, she dragged her rucksack over to her meager camp and began rolling up her sleeping bag. Derek began to protest, saying she couldn't take anything with her. Scott tried to convince her that he wasn't normally like this. Carol cried quietly.

It didn't take long to pack and she did it silently, letting their arguments roll off of her. She was sore and annoyed and wary of Derek. Clearly he was only just bitten, the blood was still wet, but she didn't imagine he would last long. His muscles had seemed to grow with his anger. She had seen people change. They became weak and hungry, the life in their eyes replaced with a cold, blank stare. Derek only seemed to be getting bigger and angrier. Nita did not like what that could mean. She pitied the bad decision of this small group, but she refused to stick around to see it destroy them.

As Nita walked to the door, she bent to pick up her pistol. She almost jumped out of her skin when Carol latched onto her arm. "You can't go back out there!" She clung frantically, trying to keep Nita from the door. The small girl didn't even weigh enough to slow Nita down and she could feel the small frame begin to tremble the closer they came to the door. Nita tried to push her off so she could open the door. Carol had a surprisingly strong grip. She buried her round, tearstained face into Nita's shoulder and said, in a muffled whine "Please don't go. It's too dangerous. You can stay with us."

With a quick jerk, Nita managed to knock Carol off. "I would rather take my chances out there than sit in here waiting for him," she pointed viciously towards Derek, "to go!" Carol stared at her, wide-eyed. Scott stepped in again. Nita roller her eyes, she was getting sick of this mediator routine. "Look," he reached to touch her shoulder, but thought better of it. "Everything out there is trying to kill you. Even if it's with a jerk like Derek, staying indoors is safer." Nita choked out a mocking laugh. "Are you blind? I can handle a jerk. He's infected and it doesn't seem normal." They stared at her like she had lobsters coming out of her ears.

Nita turned to the door again. She didn't have time to explain to these idiots how the infection worked. Scott grabbed her arm, stopping her and making her wince from the pain of her previous day's adventure. "What can we do?" his voice was soft. "If he's," he swallowed, "infected, then…" he broke off. Nita tried to remain cold and detached. It was the only way to deal with people these days. She pulled her arm from his grip and made a gun with her hand. She held her fingers to her head and pretended to shoot. There was silence for a moment. Carol looked back and forth between them.

"No!" Carol cried. "You can't do that! He's alive!" Scott reached for her, but she smacked his hand away. Tears were streaming freely down her face again. Nita could almost see herself in those eyes, the innocent girl she used to be. This world wasn't kind to such innocence. She'd learned that the hard way. She moved her hand, without thinking, towards Carol. The small girl backed away as if Nita was pointing a gun at her. There was a pain in her chest welling up. She wanted to help these people. They didn't seem to have anywhere to go and it was hard enough when one did have a safe place.

Against her better judgement, she stepped forward, towards Carol. A strong arm held her back and Scott whispered in her ear. "I need your gun." Nita looked at him incredulously. He glanced over, drawing her gaze to where Derek was hunched over. His skin seemed to be almost red and his muscles had nearly doubled in size. He just glared at the ground. Carol, in all of her grief, was backing towards him, unaware of the danger she was approaching. Nita's hand went to her gun.


	7. Change

"Carol." Scott held his hand out toward her. "I need you to come here." His voice was quiet and pleading. Carol shook her head, tears dripping down her dirty face. "You'll just shoot him. He's alive." the small, shaking voice tugged at Nita's heart, but this was not the time to be gentle. "Look at him!" she hissed. "Does he really look okay to you?" Derek groaned, as if to emphasize the question. Carol hesitated, but turned her head. She croaked out his name as if her throat were closing. "Carol," he groaned. She took a step back. His skin was red and torn. The abnormal inflation of his muscles had ripped the outer layers of his skin and burst many of the small blood vessels. "I'm… hungry…" Scott moved forward, reaching for the slight girl. Nita moved towards the door, hoping to facilitate a quick escape.

Derek, now grotesquely swollen, snapped his head up and glared at Scott. "You!" he growled. "You can't take her! She's mine!" his words were distorted and muffled, as if he was being smothered. He reached his hand out and grabbed Carol's arm, looking at her greedily. Not having much strength, the girl could only tug feebly against the iron grip. She whimpered as he pulled her closer to his drooling, mottled face. Veins bulged from his forehead and his eyes were sunken and bloodshot. She screamed and started kicking at him, trying uselessly to escape his grip.

Nita fired two shots at Derek's head, prompting another scream from Carol. One missed, grazing his shoulder, but the second hit its mark, causing him to stumble and release Carol. Nita paused for a moment to stare. The bullet had at least affected him, but how could he just shake a headshot off so easily. Scott didn't take his time. He darted in to grab Carol. Shaken from her thoughts, Nita kicked the heavy red door open, knocking over some curious zombies in the process. She backed out first, pulling her pipe bomb from her pack and hurling it down the street. Scott came out carrying a limp Carol over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Behind them, Nita could see what was once Derek watching, but he didn't move. He growled something at her and closed his eyes. She thought she could make out the words "save them" before he grabbed a shelf and threw it at the door. She slammed the door shut. The pipe bomb ceased it's beeping, exploding and taking out the twenty or so zombies remaining on the street. "This way." she told Scott as she darted down the street. She could hear his footsteps behind her as she made her way. It was a few blocks before they encountered any more zombies. Across the street, about five of them stood in an empty lot.

Nita ducked into a building through a broken window before they took notice. Scott followed, Carol still on his shoulders. Her gun at the ready, Nita scoped out the building. It appeared empty, much to her surprise. It appeared to be a bar. There were broken bottles and melted candles littering the bar. Pool tables, some upturned or on their sides, were abundant. Nita counted at least ten of them. That seemed a bit much. Her and Scott pushed some of the tables against the windows while Carol rested on another table. Once the room was fortified, Nita pulled out her map and a small flashlight. She laid it out on the table where Carol was resting and looked over it, trying to figure out her next move.

"I think the nearest safe room is somewhere around here." Scott pointed at an area of the map that seemed to be residential. Nita guessed it was apartments. "There are bound to be a lot of hostiles there. You should be safe." There was silence. He was likely staring at her. "You mean you aren't coming with us? It could be safe there." She choked a laugh. "I doubt that. Besides, I'm not here for safety." She continued poring over the map. "Then let us come with you." It was a moment before his words reached nita. She looked at him, bewildered. "Why would I do that?" Shock flashed across his face. "We can't survive on our own. We'll die." "My point, exactly. I can't look after you and fight at the same time." "Then teach us! We can learn and we can hold our own!" The conversation was quickly rising to a shouting match. Suddenly, a light shone on them.

"Will you two hush?!" Carol hissed, her tearstained face pale and frightened. There was soft scratching on the pool tables at the windows and the sound of grating glass. They had drawn the attention of the nearby zombies. She folded up her map and darted towards the bar. The others followed her and they all crouched down behind the bar. "Fine. You help me get supplies and I'll give you lessons and a safe place to sleep. Temporarily." she emphasized the last word. They both nodded. "Lessons on what?" Carol asked. She was shaking. Scott sighed, "I'll tell you later."

"The best chance for supplies is a nearby cluster of stores. There's a catch, though." Scott told Nita. She nodded him, prodding him on. "Nobody goes there because there's witches. A lot of them." Nita's heart sank. That was dangerous. "Is there anywhere else?" she asked, hopeful. They both shook their heads. "Fine," she sighed. "Not much of a choice. Lead me there." They rose to leave and something caught her eye. Above the bar, on a rack, was a pump shotgun with a box of rounds. "Hey, guy." She pointed to it. Smiling, He pulled it down. It appeared to be in proper working order. Pocketing the box of shells, he led them out of the building.


	8. Team Dynamics

They looked up and down the back alley. There weren't many zombies here. Nita reached into her bag and pulled out a hunting knife. Their best bet for survival was silence. Nearby zombies would likely smell them, but only sound would draw the further ones. She handed it to Scott. He gripped it and took a few practice swipes. He was sloppy, but not useless. Carol glanced between them. She began to protest, saying she wanted a weapon, too, but Nita cut her off, holding one hand to her mouth and one against the back of her blonde head.

A zombie shuffled closer, drawn by Carol's whine. Nita pulled the boot knife from it's holster on her leg and, directing the other two to watch her, stepped out to face the zombie. Carol gave a little gasp of surprise. Scott watched silently. The thing made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a groan and stumbled towards Nita, who was half-crouched in a fighting stance. She let the thing come close before she stepped around it, turned towards it, and slipping her knife into the base of it's skull all in one fluid motion. It shuddered and, grunting, fell in a limp pile at her feet. She wiped the blade on it's dingy clothes and put it back into the sheath on her leg. Carol gave quiet applause and Scott looked as if he was thinking.

Reaching, again, into her bag, Nita pulled out yet another boot knife and handed it to Carol. The girl began slipping the blade from its sheath, but thought better of it and just held it close. Nita pointed at Scott, then Carol, then herself and made a sign to say 'Let's go'. They both nodded and, with Scott taking point, the three of them began moving through the back alleys. Nita held the rear, silently taking out any undead that got too close. Carol, clinging to Scott, watched her every move, her limpid eyes reflecting fear and fascination.

They turned several corners in the back alleys with no problems. Nita's ears were straining to hear everything. Most of the mutated zombies sounded far enough not to be an immediate threat. She hadn't even dared hope for so much luck. Scott was surprisingly stealthy in his movements. Carol, however, kept stumbling and whimpering at every noise and her bright blue shirt made her an easy target. Nita had to wonder how this girl had managed to live so long. They approached a corner and Scott held his arm out to stop them. He motioned for Nita to join him. With a quick glance around, she stepped up to peer around the bricks.

The alley bent and let out into the street. There was a dented dumpster knocked over and dead bodies littered the ground. It let out into an open street. On the other side was another wide alley between two old brick buildings, which Scott indicated was their destination. Between them and the goal, shambling around destroyed cars and rotting corpses, was a veritable horde of zombies. Nita's heart sank. She didn't have the firepower to take them on and her new companions didn't have the skill. She pointed down the alley, but Scott shook his head and pointed back to the street. Nita rolled her eyes.

Nita's body had long since taken on a dull ache and she was developing a headache. She really didn't want to deal with too many zombies. Looking up, she could tell that the sun hadn't reached it's peak. The alleyways were all still in shadow. She doubted she could use that to her advantage. Scott nudged her and pointed at the shotgun. Did he really think they could take this? She shook her head and pulled him back from the corner. They needed a good plan.

"Is there another way to get to that street from here? Somewhere nearby?" Nita whispered. Scott thought for a moment before responding. "There's another opening a few buildings back, but that's the only alley we can use on the other side, so it would be more dangerous to-" Nita held her hand up. "I only want to see what we're up against." Scott nodded, "Okay. Okay, so the last alley we passed exits into the street. It's cheap apartments, so there should be a ladder to the roof." The roof wasn't a very safe place, but if she went alone and stayed low, it would be easy enough to survey the street.

There were few options open to her, but any chance was better than none. With any luck, there was a way to draw the hoard somewhere else. She glanced around, happy to see Carol keeping silent watch over them, her wide eyes darting around quickly. "Take us there," she whispered to Scott, "but stay quiet and do not follow me to the roof." He nodded and they moved back down the alley, towards the other outlet. She was pleased to find that fewer zombies were wandering in the street. A fence separated them from the party. Zig-zagging up the left building was a set of old metal stairs with a ladder for alley access. There was a metal door about halfway up the building, but otherwise, only windows let out of the structure.

The rusted ladder stopped about three yards shy of the ground. It seemed as if someone had broken the extension off and it was nowhere to be found. "How will we get up?" Carol's whisper was barely audible. Nita ventured out into the alley, motioning for the others to stay behind. There were only one or two undead camping in the small area and she dispatched them easily. At her beckoning, the others followed.

Intertwining her fingers to make a cradle, Nita nodded towards Scott. WIthout hesitation, He put his booted foot into her hands and allowed her to boost him up. He gripped the bottom rung of the ladder and pulled himself up. Carol wasn't as confident, but she stepped up anyway. Using as much strength as she could muster, Nita launched the small frame into the air. She was light and went high enough that Scott could wrap an arm around her thin waist. He let her crawl past him and climb up the ladder.

Scott looped his legs through one of the lower rungs and hung upside down from the ladder, reaching down towards Nita. She passed up her rucksack. Scott passed it to Carol, who sat with it and watched the surrounding area. Near a dumpster was a solid wooden crate. Nita emptied it and moved it near the ladder. Taking a few steps back, she took a few running steps and vaulted from the box towards Scott's outstretched arms. He caught her arms and held fast. The steel grating on the fire escape groaned and creaked.

As she pulled herself up, Nita saw the crowd in the street turn their attention to them. Seeing a potential meal, they moved in, drawing the attention of yet more of them. By the time all three of them were standing on the lowest platform, several of the zombies had climbed the gate and several more were pushing against it. They began to congregate below the fire escape. Slipping her rucksack back on, Nita led the group up the stairs.


	9. Stranded

Nita had hoped to leave the others near the rusted door. Halfway up the fire escape, though, they heard a metallic snap as the fence collapsed. Scott looked down to see the horde gather below the ladder. They piled on top of each other and grabbed for the ladder. Several had pulled themselves up and were stumbling up the steps as the trio reached the top platform. A hinged ladder connected it to the roof. Scott pushed it into place and climbed up. Carol followed closely behind him. The first zombie to clamour up to the top platform threw itself at Nita. She kicked it off and sent it tumbling down the stairs, but more quickly surrounded her.

Nita struggled against the group of zombies. The pack put her off balance and she leaned against the boarded up window. The plywood creaked beneath her weight and she heard the cracking of glass. The monsters thrashed and swatted at her as she barely manage to keep them at bay. The knife she kept on her back came out and she dropped three of them with little difficulty and regained her balance. Two more fell before she registered the sound above. It sounded like there were more on the roof. Carol was surprisingly quiet. Kicking at the feet of the hostiles closest to her, Nita managed to buy herself enough time to scramble up the ladder and kick it down.

The rooftop offered little rest. It seemed that a small group of survivors had tried to take shelter here and failed. Scott sliced at the oncoming zombies with the hunting knife. His attacks were sloppy, but effective. He'd taken care of several of them, but he was getting tired and he and Carol had backed dangerously close to the edge of the roof. Nita came in behind the hungry things and buried her own knife into their heads one at a time. Once they were all down, Scott smiled thankfully at her. She merely stared at him. Carol rushed to her, arms outstretched. "You're okay!" She stopped a few steps away, taking note of the rotting filth covering Nita.

Nita dropped the rucksack. Her muscles ached and her head was pounding. If it weren't for Carol's surprised yelp, she may have missed the wet coughing of the smoker that had joined them on the roof. It shot it's tongue towards Scott, but Nita acted faster, three rounds hit home in its grotesque head and it fell in a puff of smoke. Returning the pistol to its holster, Nita pulled a bottle of pills from her bag and, moving the balaclava just enough, took a few. She pretended to feel better already. Glancing at the smoker, she was surprised to see something protruding from it's tongue. Her boot knife was still lodged to the hilt in the slimy thing. Laughing, she returned it to its sheath.

"What now?" Scott asked her. It seemed to her that these two had come to rely on her. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Below, the zombies were still trying to reach them, but the platform didn't offer enough room to make a large enough pile. They were dispirited to find that the group that had pursued them wasn't even half of the crowd in the street. Nita regretted throwing away that pipe bomb, though she doubted if that would solve the problem anyway. "Could we create a distraction?" Scott ventured. Nita shook her head. "Not without drawing them to us. We're trapped"

They set about searching the roof for leftover supplies. There were sleeping bags lined up in one corner. Many of them were covered in blood and one still had a body in it. Carol wouldn't approach that area. Nita found a few more knives and some food rations. Scott found an unopened bottle of water, two molotov cocktails and a flip lighter. After a few minutes, Carol approached Nita excitedly. She was carrying some boxes of ammo and a pistol. Nita guessed it was a 9mm of some sort. The ammo was .40 cal, though. "There's more." Carol sang. She led them toward some piles of pallets that seemed to serve as tables. There were more boxes of ammo and a coffee can filled with miscellaneous ammo. There were more knives, but what drew Nita's attention was the guns. Besides the 9mm Carol was holding, there was a Desert Eagle, AR15, a sniper rifle, and an M16. She picked up the M16. It looked more used than the one she'd lost.

The new M16 fit comfortably on her back and she was happy with the familiar weight. Carol handed over the 9mm. Nita tested the sights and magazine and handed it to Scott. "The recoil is pretty low, so you should be fine." She recalled how well he'd used her Ruger and hoped that would translate well enough. "Hold it with both hands and aim carefully." She rooted through the ammo and handed him two boxes of ammo, each with 50 rounds, and an empty magazine. "Load that and keep it handy." He set about doing as he was told. She grabbed her rucksack and began filling it with what was left.

Carol looked nervously at the weapons. "What about me?" she asked shakily. Nita looked at her. She didn't imagine this delicate creature had any training, though her brother seemed knowledgeable enough. She picked up one of the knives on the table, a stealth black SOG knife. It looked big in her little hands as she slid it out of its sheath. She looked at Nita nervously. "I don't know how to use this." she squeaked. Scott smiled reassuringly. "If we're lucky, you won't have to use it. Just keep it close, okay?" Carol nodded.


End file.
